The Stain

964 Days

You entered Jackson's office with coffee. You pushed your hip out to close the heavy wooden door. As you approached him, the coffee spilled, slightly, getting some coffee right near Jackson's crotch. You were aghast.

"Mr. Reynolds, I'm so sorry," you squeaked. You got a napkin, rubbing his trousers. At least he was wearing his black suit today. You rubbed ... and you rubbed ... and you rubbed. Eventually he stilled your hand by grabbing your wrist firmly. You looked up a little, and saw he was hard from the constant rubbing of his inner thigh. And it was big. Very big. Bigger than even yours at its peak. You swallowed.

"It's fine Mr. Martinez. But next time, either finish the job or don't start it at all, hm?" You looked at that big cock, almost pulsing in his pants.

"Yes Sir."